It takes practice
The two looked at them, incredulous and awkward. They had been discovered and not even by anyone important, but the fact in itself was a problem. Walking in the centre at that time, it is well known, was risky, and wasn’t it better to listen to that little voice? But little voices are made to pester harmless middle-aged men who cultivate pleasure as a personal defence, willing to lose sleep to feel young and full of life. Francesco wasn’t good looking, he was just passionate. His partner hid her erotic gaze behind a shabby dress, she was a few years older than Francesco and was a few years more experienced, there was nothing particularly noteworthy about her that would have caught the attention of curious eyes.
As fate would have it, the sudden palpitations and sweats Francesco experienced that evening seemed a bit too much for him. So he made do without her, he devoted himself to culinary delights and morning runs. He ruled out clandestine relationships out of hand, he dwelled on a sort of feeling with a woman in her twenties and this kept him active, then he took surf lessons and sailed along well for a while, in good and calm waters, without making his bed, few plans to keep the week’s rhythm and some good beer when there was some.